PS 3505 
.A49 L7 

1900 

Copy 1 



}\ Coyal Renegade 



A COMEDY 
IN ONE ACT 



BY 



MARGARET CAMERON SMITH 



OAKI/AND, CALIFORNIA. 

ENQUIRER PUBLISHING COMPANY, 

416 TENTH ST. 

1900. 



J\ Coyal Renegade 



, 


A COM'RDY 

:: V OS-. AC^ 






BY 

J 




MARGARET CAMERON SMITH 




-- > > , f » '-» 


' 



OAKLAND. CALIFORNIA. 

FJNQUIRER PUBLISHING COMPANY, 

416 TENTH ST. 

19(H). 









TWO COPIES RECEIVED, 

Library of COBgrofi^ 

APR 1 8 1900 

Kegisur of Cepirffttft 



.•• • 

• e • 



o e c c c 



•.• •-• 



A LOYAL RENEGADE 



Copyright 1900. 
By Margaret Cameron Sniitlv. 

All Rights Reserved. 



CHARACTERS. 

Phyllis Arlington, an impressionable, 
tender-heaited girl, suffering from 
an acute attack of philosophic indi- 
gestion, superinduced by the con- 
sumption of various half-baked the- 
ories administered by her friend, 
Mrs. Treavor. 

Robert Chalmers, a practical, resolute 
young man, very much in love \vilh 
Phyllis. 




A, small sofa. 

B, table, with lighted lamp 
magazines, etc. 

C, easy chair. 



STAGE 
SCENE— DRAWING-ROOM. 

D, small chair. 

E, fireplace, with open fire. 

F, exit to hall. 
Potted palms, piano, bric-a-brac, etc., 

ad lib. 



books. 



(Phyllis discovered sitting on sofa. 
r. c. doing fancywork. Rob lounges in 
easy chair, 1. c, watching her.) 

Phyllis. AVell, Kipling may be all 
that yon say, but to me he seems de- 



plorably lacking- in delicacy and ideal- 
ism. 

Robert. I fancy that life in India 
may not be conducive to the develop- 
ment of either of those qualities. But 



A hOYAh RENEGADE 



he is keen and direct, with an appar- 
ently inexhaustible vein of humor and 
a command of the English languag-e 
that is simply marvelous. Moreover, 
he never g:oes into mawkish, morbid 
analysis of the commonplace, nor does 
he write unhealthy books that, to use 
his own words, "deal with people's in- 
sides from the point of view of men 
who have no stomachs." 

P. (Laughing.) Rob, you quote 
Kipling as other people quote the 
Bible, and you have an appropriate 
text for any occasion. 

R. (Taking up book from table.) 
Well, *one can't open one of his books 
without finding something worth read- 
ing. Listen to this, for instance. 
(Reads.) "How can a man who has 
never married; who cannot be trusted 
to pick up at sight a moderately sound 
horse; whose head is hot and upset 
with visions of domestic felicity, go 
about the choosing' of a wife? He 
cannot see straight or think straighi; 
if he tries: and the same disadvan- 
tages exist in the case of a girl's fan- 
cies. But when mature, married and 
discreet people arrange a match be- 
tween a boy and a girl, they do it 
sensibly, with a view to the future, 
and the young couple live happily ever 
afterward. As everybody knows." 
(Laughs.) What a jolly, sarcastic beg- 
gar he is! 

P. Does that impress you as being 
sarcasm ? 

R. (Lowering- book to stare at her.) 
Great Scott! Does that impress me 
as being sarcasm! What else could 
it be? 

P. Well, I know one can't be too 
certain of Kipling's opinions; but at 
any rate, he might mean that. Many 
people would ag-ree with him. 

R. Humph! (Raises book as if to 
continue reading.) 

P. Now, for instance, that has been 
for a lon^: time a favorite theory of 
mine, and if the day ever comes when 
I care enough for a man to want to 
marry him, I shall refer the matter 
to a committee of our friends and 
abide by their decision. 

R. (Hotly, throwing book aside.) 
Do you mean to say that if you loved 



a man, you would permit any one else 
to decide for you whether or not you 
should marry him? 

P. (Calmly.) I mean precisely that. 
I should deem myself prejudiced and 
consequently unfit to decide so import- 
ent a question. 

R. (Leaning forward and speaking 
argumentatively.) But, Phyllis, can't 
you see how absurd it is? The idea 
of expecting — or permitting — any one 
else i.o decide for you a question that 
concerns you so vitally; a matter so 
purely personal! 

P. (Stops working and speaks ear- 
nestly.) That is just the point. It does 
concern me so vitally that I can't be 
expected to view it from a rational 
point of view. I am too near it; I 
have no perspective. And I am sur- 
prised to hear you speak of marriage 
as purely a personal matter, Rob. 

R. But no one else can know your 
heart; so how 

P. For that very reason anybody 
else's judgment w^ould be better than 
mine. What right have two people to 
say, "Because we love eadh other, we 
will marry, be the consequences what 
they may"? That kind of love has 
been well defined as "an egotism of 
two." 

R. (Rising impatiently.) And in its 
place you would establish an intellec- 
tual companionship which, after it 
has been investigated and approved 
by your cold-blooded committee, you 
will allow to expand — perhaps — into a 
calm affection. Cupid with a micro- 
scope! (Crosses to fireplace, r,, anci 
makes pretense of warming hands.) 

P. (Resignedly, resuming work.) 
Indeed, you misunderstand me! But 
Mrs. Treavor says that in questions re- 
lating to marriage, people think tiw 
too much of their own selfish desires, 
and far too little of the effect of their 
indulgence upon Humarity. 

R. Did Mrs. Treavor marry to bene- 
fit humanity? 

P. (Sadly.) No, and she has real- 
ized her mistake and suffered bitterly 
for it. 

R. (Turning toward her.) Did she 
tell you that, too? 

P. (Drops wo)'k at 1. of sofa and 



A LOYAL Rr:NKGAI)I<: 



3 



turns toward him, spi'.ikini; earnestly 
over back of sofa.) Oh. no! How can 
you be so unfair to her, Kob! But 
one who knows her well c-an see how 
bravely she strugg^les to make the 
most of what life has left possible for 
her. 

R. (Standing- back to fireplace, 
hands behind him.) Well, it has left 
a g'ood deal. Joe Treavor is one of the 
straightest, manliest fellows I know. 

P. Oh, yos! I dare- say. — from a 
man's point of view, but so lacking- in 
perception, in — in — 

R. (Bluntly.) Well, in what? 

P. Oh. in everything- that a woman 
liks Mrs. Treavoi- needs. 

R. Why, then, did she mai-ry him? 

P. That's just it! She loved him 
and idealized him, and so, of course, 
she couldn't see that he was of too 
coarse a fibre to satisfy her soul-needs. 

R. Her soul-fiddlesticks! (Crosses 
to table, picking- up P.'s fancy work 
on the way. Lays it on table.) 

P. (Indignantly.) Rob! If you only 
knew Mrs. Treavor you would under- 
stand how fine and strong- and woman- 
ly she is, and what a perpetual sac- 
rifice her life has been. 

R. (Taking- up book again.) Per- 
haps I should, and yet — I am only a 
man. you know. 

P. Yes, but such a (Stops in con- 
fusion.) 

R. (Throwing- book aside and g'oing- 
toward her eag-erly.) Yes? You were 
about to say? 

P. You ai-e so different from other 
men; so reasonable; so much more 
sympathetic; so — oh. you know! 

R. (Behind the divan.) Phyllis, am 
I different enoug-h to — to — 

P. (Affecting- surprise.) To what, 
Rob? 

R. (Bending- over her.) To win you. 
dear? I love you, Phyllis! I know I 
am not a poet, and I don't understand 
lots of your theories, but I love you! 
— (Phyllis screens her face from him) 
Phyllis? 

P. (Starts.) Yes? 

R. (Eag-erly.) Are you offended? 
Why don't you answer me? 

P. (Archly.) Did you ask any- 
thing-? 



Don't trill.-. 

Your lo\-e— ' 

m.-, Phyllis ■.' 



R. (Takes her hand.) 
dear! I ask evoi-\thing ! 
and jou. Do iou luV'- 
A little? 

P. (Archly.) Yt s— a litli.-. 

R. r^h>llis! (Tries to put his arms 
about her, but she springs up and 
eludes him. She crosses to r.) Really, 
really, you love me? 

P. (Keeping- chair r. between them.) 
Really, really. I — love you. (He moves 
around chair. She crosses to sofa.) 
But you must behave very well if you 
expect n\e to continue to do so. For 
example — (He advances; she backs 
away) — you must not be — greedy. 

R. (At r. of sofa.) But, dearest! 

P. (At I. of sofa, teasingly.) Well 
— dearest ? 

R. (Pleadingly.) Phyllis, dear, don't 
tease — now! 

P. Very well; I will be as serious 
as you choose, if you will promise — 

R. Yes? 

P. To treat me as a prisoner of war 
and not as a targ-et. 

R. (Reproachfully.) A prisoni i\ 

Phyllis? 

P. Have I not suriendered? (He 
moves quickly toward her. She with- 
draws. He steps back to chair r.) 

R. Very well, I promise. Come out 
from behind your fortifications. (She 
sits or. end of divan nearest him. He 
sits on chair r.) 

P. rPensi\'ely.) I -wonder what ISIrs. 
Treavor will say. 

R. What matter? I am content to 
kno\\' what you have said. (Edges 
chair nearer her.) Phyllis, when will 
you man y me? 

P. (,Su;-piised and alarmed.) Marry 
you? Oh' — why — let's not talk about 
that: 

R. Phyllis! What do you mean? 

P. (Breathless.) Why, you know, 
there is something- to consider first. 

R. (Eag-erly.) Yes, I know — my in- 
come, and all that. It is ample, dear. 

P. (Hurt.) Oh, Rob! I didn't mean 
that. I'm not so sordid. 

R. (Bewildered.) Then what? What 
else'' Is any^body's consent required? 
We are oi'phans and of age. 

P. Yes, but I wonder if — they will — 
^\ ill let us — marry? 



A LOYAL RENEGADE 



R. (Astonished.) They? Who in 
thunder are they? 

P. -Why, my friends, you know, to 
>vhom I must submit the matter. 

R. (Relieved.) Oh, your people! 
AVhy, of course they will! I suppose 
I must ask your uncle, as a matter 
of form, for your hand; but that will 
be all rigrht. Both he and your aunt 
know that I lo^'e 3'on, and they have 
been very kind to me. 

P. Oh, uncle Jerry! Of course lie 
won't object. If he did, I could coax 
him out of it in five minutes. Ah! 
ah! (As he moves impulsively toward 
her, she moves away from him, and 
he sits beside her.) And auntie 
Avouid asree with uncle Jerry. She 
always does. 

R. (Bewildered.) Well, then, who 
else is there whom w^e must consult? 

P. (Faintly.) The — the committee. 

R. Th-? comiTiittee! What commit- 
tee? Surely, Phyllis, you don't in- 
tend — you can't intend to refer this 
matter to — oh, pshaw! Of course you 
don't: 

P. (Firmly.) But I do, Rob! I 
inust! Don't you see? We are in no 
position to judge whether or not our 
marriage M'ould be best for us — best 
for huinanity. 

R. Why aren't we? 

P. Because we love each other. (He 
tries inipulsively to put his arm 
around her. She shrinks from him.) 
No, no, Rob! You mustn't, indeed, 
you mustn't, until — we are certain. 

R. (Gravely.) Aren't you certain 
t;ow, Phyllis? 

P. That I care, yes; but not that I 
dare marry you. (Rises.) Our judg- 
?rient is so v.^arped now, by our love 
for ear-h other — (Crosses to r. c.) — that 
it is impossible for us to be entirely 
rational. But so much depends upon 
the wise solution of this problem, not 
(inly for us, bui" for society, that we 
must invoke the aid of earnest, serious 
minds, and rely absolutely upon their 
conclusions. 

R.. (Ri.ses, crossing to 1.) Far be it 
from me to question the wisdom of the 
TCast, but it will be some years, I 
fancy, before that eminently Oriental 
idea takes root and flourishes in the 



Occidental mind. Why. Phyllis, that 
is the philosophy of India, where 
happy marriages, as we understand 
thein, are absolutely unknown. 

P. Mrs. Treavor says that no one 
can estimate the psychic influence of 
the home; its potentiality is limitless; 
its consequences so far-reaching as to 
be incalculable; and if the elements 
combining in its atmosphere are not 
well balanced, only evil can result. 

R. But, Phyllis, dear— 

P. She says, too, that only by awak- 
ening the cosmic consciousness in man, 
and a sense of his personal relation to 
all mental causation, can we hope to 
establish ideal conditions and become 
quite free, (Crosses slowly to divan.) 
And so. we must enter reverently into 
the realm of cause, and abide by its 
laws, Rob. 

R. How are you going to ascertain 
all this, Phyllis? 

P. (Sits as before.) I suppose we 
never cslw be absolutely certain, but 
we m.ust do all we can to find out, 
mustn't we, Rob? 

R. (Crossing to r. c.) Oh, I suppose 
we mustj but — 

P. Just a moment, please. We will 
name a committee — two of my friends 
and two of yours — and they will select 
a fifth person — (Rob shakes his head 
dubiously.) — and then we shall let 
them decide for us whether or not we 
are really suited to each other and 
jTiay marry with reasonable safety. 

R. *!Sits beside her and takes her 
hand.) Phyllis, listen to me. You 
are talking nonsense, dear. No one 
could decide that as well as we can. 
(She tries to withdraw her hand.) You 
know me well. I have loved you for 
years and I have kept nothing back 
from you that could influence your love 
for me. You don't doubt that I love 
you, do you? Do you, Phyllis? 

P. No. 

R. Nor my ability to care for you? 

P. Oh, no! 

R. Then why tantalize me? Say 
that you will marry me — soon. 

P. (Rising, almost crying, pulling 
her hand away.) I can't, Rob, I can't! 
It wouldn't be right. 

R. You insist upon appointing this 



A LOYAL RENJ^GADK 



absurd committee? Upon laying bare 
the fcweetest, most sacred feeling- in 
our lives, and inviting- those people t j 
dissect it, examine it, and to pro- 
nounce upon its quality? 

P. I do. 

R. (Rising-.) Evidently I ha\'e la- 
bored under a grave misapprehension. 
I gathered the impression, somehow, 
that you cared for me; — that you 
might even love me. 

P. (Piteously.) Oh, I do! I do! 

R. Then \A'h3' in the name of all 
that is reasonable — 

P. Mrs. Treavor says — 

R. Hang- Mrs. Treavor! 

P. Robert ! 

R. (Bo-vvs stiffly.) I beg your pardon. 

P. Mrs. Treavor says that our 
hearts aiv dangerously deceptive, and 
that it is only after we have suffered 
end suffered that \\e dare trust to 
their impulses. 

R. And so you are making me "suf- 
fer and suffer," that you may be cer- 
tain of m.e. Is that it? 

P. No, dear. But I know so little 
of sorrow, — my life has been so smooth 
and so happy and — and we have been 
— so — so — happy — together — that I can't 
trust miself. And I must know that 
I am doing you no wrong before X 
promise to marry you. 

R. (Stepping quickly to her sioo 
and takirg her hands.) Dear littie 
V.Oman, how could you do ine a wrong? 

P. You don't seem to understand, 
Rob, that there are very grave ethical 
responsibilities to consider. And then, 
we have said nothing yet of the effect 
of the sub-conscious mind which, 
when it is untrained, undeveloped, as 
— as yours is, dear — inay exert a very 
baleful influence. Some one has said 
that there are a great many very ex- 
cellent people who are not at all ex- 
cellent for each other, and we inay be 
among them. 

R. (Positively.) Well, we are not! 
However, I suppose I must submit — • 
though I think it is arrant nonsense, 
and worse — it is sacrilegous. 

P. Oh, Rob' 

R. But we will be even that, if it 
pleassth my lady. Come, we will sit 
here — (She crosses to his right and 



iliey sit on divan) — and select our ((jn^- 
mittee, and — oh, I say, you must l<^t 
me keep possession of that hand, you 
know, as a sort of — er — retaining fee — • 
y)v to — er — quiet my scruples about 
this juiy business. So! Now, you b-;- 
gin. 

V. I will name one and then you 
name one 

R. All right. (Kisses her hand.) 
Fire away! 

P. Mrs. Treavoi-. 

R. (Protestingly.) Now. see liere, 
Phyllis, that is hardly fair! Mrs. 
Ireavor belongs to the ultra-anti-mas- 
culine wine: of the woman movement, 
and opposes marriage on principle. 
She is, no doubt, an excellent woman — 

P. She is a noble v omen, Rob, with 
s.uch profound soul-depth! 

R. Hm! Well, I'm not so sure about 
the soul-depth, girlie. She doesn't 
seem to have soul-depth enough to ap- 
l-reciaie her husband, who is one oi' 
the finest, cleanest, most all-round 
f;ood fellows I ever knew — and I know 
him well. She doesn't seem to have 
soul-depth enough to realize that tliat 
puny, spindle-legged boy of hers needs 
more of her attention than her clubs 
and classes. (Phyllis withdraws her 
hand.) She doesn't seem — (R. grows 
more and more excited as h-^ 
goes on) — to feel that her husband 
and son are freezina- to death in the ex- 
tremely ^^arefied atmosphere of the 
home that she ought to make warm 
and cheery and wholesoine, while she 
floats about in a transcendental haze, 
lecturing to a lot of sentimental wo- 
men — (Phyllis rises indignantly and 
crosses to r. c.) — about how to satisf\- 
the soul-hunger of humanity, — hu- 
manity with a capital H! 

P. (Severely.) I knew that you 
couldn't be just to Mrs. Treavor, Rob. 
but I didn't expect you to be brutal. 
She is my dearest friend, the woman 
upon whose judgment I most rely. 

R. (Jumping up and pacing to and 
fro across the stage.) Yes, and she is 
the woman who is responsible for 
all this foolishness! She fancies her- 
self misunderstood and unappreciated, 
and prates about her wasted life; sh? 
inveighs against men and against mar- 



A LOYAL RENEGADE 



riag'e, and teaches good, sweet, sensi- 
ble g-irls like j^ou to believe that you 
can't trust to the prompting's of your 
own pure hearts 

P. But 

R. And that there is something in 
her hazy, remote, bloodless philosophy 
that will atone to you for the sacrifice 
of your sacred human yearning for 
love and all that it brings to a woman. 
I know her kind, confound 'em, and 
they are all dangerous! 

P. (With freezing- dignity.) You for- 
get yourself, Robert! We are not dis- 
cussiiig Mrs. Treavor. She is my 
choice for one member of our commit- 
tee. (Crosses to 1. c.) 

R. (Stops walk for a moment.) You 
will not withdraw her name, Phyllis? 

P. (Coldly.) Certainly not. 

(She sits near table, pretending to go 
on with her fancy work, 'but waitches 
bim furtively. He resumes his impa- 
tient walk. Suddenly he pauses be- 
hind her, puckers up his lips as if to 
thistle, throws back head in silent 
laugh; crosses and throws himself up- 
on sofa.) 

R. Very well, then. I accept Mrs. 
Treavor, — though I don't like her, — 
and I will name — let me see, — Duncan 
Graham. 

P. Rob! 

R. (As if surprised.) Well? 

P. (Indignantly.) That crusty old 
bachelor? 

R. Why not? Man of excellent judg- 
ment, Graham. Scotch, you know. So 
cool and hard-headed. 

P. (Aside.) Pig-headed, you mean! 

R. And eminently modern, I should 

P. Yes, too modern! He seems to 
regard married men as victims of un- 
toward circumstances, and he congrat- 
ulates engaged girls! Horrid old 
thing! 

R. (With great dignity.) Phyllis, 
you are speaking of a man for whom 
I have the greatest admiration. 

P. (Sitting up very straight.) I 
don't care! He is horrid! "V\''hy, Rob, 
he will make no end of a fuss. 

R. A fuss? 

P. Yes; he will be sure to raise a 
lot of objections. He thought Will 
Forbes was so foolish to marry Molly 



Turner, and she is such a dear, sweet 
girl, too! 

R. Yes, I know. He even tried to 
argue Forbes out of the notion, and 
when he failed, he said that the worse 
feature of congenital idiocy was its 
hopelessness. (Laughs.) 

P. (Indignantly.) I don't see any- 
thing funny about that! I suppose he 
will go about saying- that you are a 
congenital idiot, too. He told me at the 
Terrys' dinner the other night that he 
thought you had a great future before 
you if — (with withering scorn) — you 
didn't spoil it all by marrying too 
soon. And then he quoted that sillj' 
old saw: "'A young man married is a 
man that's marred." Spiteful old 
thing! 

R. (Aside.) The deuce he did! Bulla- 
fye, by Jove! (To her, carelessly.) 
Yes, I know that to be his opinion. 
That is the reason, that I chose him. 
You know Grahain sees so clearly all 
the ol^stacles that matrimony puts in 
a inan's way; (Counts them off delib- 
erately on his finger tips,) the added 
responsibility, the loss of personal lib- 
erty, the petty social duties, the pos- 
sible nagging, the narrowed horizon, 
the contiacted environment, the cur- 
tailed opportunities, the 

P. (Hysterically, rising.) You need 
n't go on, Mr. Chalmers! I have heard 
Quite enough. I wouldn't for any- 
thing in the world entail such sacrifice 
upon you! 

R. (Surprised.) My dear little givl. 
how excitable you are! 

P. (Sits suddenly and taps on table 
"^^Mth finger tips.) I am not your dear 
little girl, and I am not in the least 
excited! 

R. But, Phyllis, be calm a moment, 
and listen to reason. 

P. (Springing to her feet.) Reason' 
Reason! That's like a man! You all 
care so much more for what you call 
reason and for practical, sordid con- 
siderations, than you do for our happi- 
ness! (Turns her back upon hiiTi.) 

R. (Concealing a smile.) But I un- 
derstood that this committee was to be 
formed for eminently practical pur- 
poses; to suggest and to consider the 
objections to our marriage that we 



A LOYAL RENEGADE 



couldn't be expected, under the cir- 
cumstances, to discover 

P. (Over her shoulder.) You seem 
to have no difficulty in discovering 
them! 

R. But Graham could think of so 
many more, because, you see, he is 
not hampered by his love for ycu. 
(P. sniffs disdainfully. R. leans back 
lazily on cushions.) Now, that is set- 
tled. AYho is your next candidate? 

P. (Turning- towaid him.) Do I un- 
derstand that you will not withdraw 
Duncan Graham? 

R. (Coolly.) Certainly I will not. 
Why should I ? 

P. You want that crabbed, dyspep- 
tic, pessimistic, stubborn, detestable 
old Scotchman making- his cynical 
comments on — on our love for each 
other? 

R. (Rising- and moving toward her, 
speaking impressively.) But you re- 
n;!ember that Mrs. Treavor says that 
love between a man and a woman is, 
of itself, an insurmountable subjective 
obstacle, evanescent in its very nature 
and paralyzing- to the conservation of 
soul-energy; and that only when these 
subjecti\'e distortions are cast aside 
and the higher potentialities of the 
spirit are educed, can the submerfe'ed 
mentality become transcendentally 
greater in scientific idealism, and the 
ego, vibrating- to a dominant note in 
the thought-atmosphere, become a fi- 
nited spirit, potentially whole. (Aside.) 
I'm afraid I got that mixed! 

(P. stares at him a momenit in amaze- 
ment and consternation. Then rushes 
past him, to sofa.) 

P. Oh, Rob! Rob! Rob! 

(Throws herself upon sofa, weeping 
convulsively. He starts toward her, 
checks himself, shakes head, thrust 
hands resolutely into trousers pockets, 
crosses, stands to right of sofa, look- 
ing down at her.) 

R. (Tenderly.) Phyllis, shall we 
give up this idea? Shall we put our 
faith in our love for each other and — 
(smiles) — chance it? 

P. (Rises, wrathful, tearful, den- 
ant.) No! No! No! We can't give 
it up! But you must withdraw Dun- 
can Graham. I will not have him on 



that committee. You understand, Rob? 

II. (Aside, coming down stage.) Now 
for one big-, brutal bluff! (To her. 
sternly.) Phyllis, listen to me. I have 
yielded thus far to your folly because 
I hoped that you would see the ab- 
surdity of your position. (She makes 
an imperious gesture, v/hich he ig- 
nores.) Your conduct shows me that 
my hore is vain. Now we will decide 
this liuestion at once, if you please. 
You know that I love you; j'oti know 
what my circumstances are, financially 
and socially, and what your position 
as my wife would be. You say that 
\ ou lo\-e me. If you love me you will 
marry me. (Takes out watch.) I will 
give you i)Ve minutes in which to de- 
cide whether or not you will marry 
n)e within three months. If at the end 
of five minutes you have not decided, 
T shall go away — and 1 shall not re- 
turn. (Phyllis is defiant.) One min- 
ute. (P. taps foot and clasps and un- 
clasps hands.) Two minutes. (1*. 
fumbles for handkerchief.) Three min- 
utes. (P. wipes her eyes furtivel3^) 
Four minutes. (P. drops on sofa and 
weeps.) Five minutes. (R. closes 
watch with a snap and returns it to 
pocket.) Phyllis, will you marry me? 
(P. sobs. R. walks rapidly to door, 
Rob.) 

(P. sits up, listens, springs to feet 
and calls.) 

P. Rob! Rob! Rob! 

(R. appears dn doorway.) 

R. (Politely.) You called. 

P. (Nods and sobs.) 

R. You wished to say? 

P. (Faintly, half sobbing.) I'll— I'll 
withdraw — Mrs. Treavor's name from^ 
— the commit'tee, if — if — 

R. (Coldly.) Well? 

P. (Eagerly.) If you'll withdraw 
Mr. Graham's. 

R. Oh. well, that's fair. Of course 
I Avill. But, really — (coming slowly 
down stagfe) — I don't see any need of 
a conmiittee, since 

P. (Beaming. expectant. joyotis.) 
Neither do I, you — you — old goose! 
(She stretches out her hands to him. 
He starts toward her. arms extended.) 

QUICK CURTAIN. 



*nn 



